Whispers on the Wind (A Prairie Hearts Novel Book 5) Page 8

  Mr. Wade just listened, looking uncomfortable with the little china cup held in his large hands. He’d wanted to skedaddle once they’d arrived, but she’d kept him on, knowing Tabitha had taken a shine to him—not that the girl likely even realized it yet.

  She hid a smile. Tabitha reminded her of herself when she was that age, feisty and headstrong. By then, Violet had been married ten years. This gal believed she was old, spent, when in reality, she was just a babe, with her whole life in front of her, and now here was a man interested in opening her eyes. As hard as Violet tried, she couldn’t keep her teacup from trembling as she raised it to her lips, recalling the short, but heady years she’d had with Bruce. Oh, how she missed that man. Her heart swelled, feeling again sixteen and bursting with hopes and dreams that would fill an ocean.

  Outside, two men climbed out of the stagecoach and ambled away. Ralph, the driver, stepped to the conveyance’s door and put out his hand, helping a woman to the ground.

  Violet gasped. Her teacup clattered to the table. Tabitha and Mr. Wade both leaned back, their eyes wide, and began blotting at the puddle on the tablecloth.

  “I’m sorry ta leave ya with this mess, but I need ta go.”

  Both youngsters responded with a why.

  “Never you mind. I have someone I need ta talk to.”

  Violet stood and hurried away, her energy back, and ready for a fight. Within seconds she was next to the stage. “What in blazes are ya doin’ in Logan Meadows?” she barked out.

  The medium-sized woman she’d recognize from anywhere turned. Her hand went to her mouth in shock. “So, you’re still alive. Doesn’t surprise me, though. You’re too wicked to die. God doesn’t want you.”

  Violet, still in disbelief, stared at Jake’s mother. Marlene had been a saloon girl in Valley Springs where Violet had owned a mercantile. Marlene’s once-thick black hair had thinned, and her rouge stood out on her powdered face. Time had not been kind. Her blue eyes, usually clouded with drink, were clear.

  “Your hollow words don’t scare me,” Violet mumbled.

  The woman’s lips pursed. “By now I thought you’d be long gone. A lump in some lonely graveyard.”

  In no mood for games, Violet grasped Marlene’s arm. She came close so no one else would hear. “What do you want?”

  “I only want to speak with my son. See how he is.”

  “I don’t believe you. You’ve never had a kind thought for Jake. You only had a use for him when you needed something. Was hungry or wanted him to find you a bottle. I won’t let you near him. He doesn’t want you in his life. When he was jist a tyke, I was the one to bathe him, feed him, and make sure he had somewhere to sleep. He grew up like a wild wolf pup. You never loved him then, and ya don’t love him now. Jist get back on that stage and keep going!”

  Unfortunately, Ralph, the stage driver, was watching the exchange with a troubled brow. The last thing Violet wanted was for everyone to find out Jake’s no-good mother had shown up in Logan Meadows. With as much strength as she had, she dragged Marlene sideways into the alley between the hotel and the mercantile, where they’d have a little privacy.

  Marlene jerked her arm free. “Stop it, you witch! That hurt.” She rubbed her arm when Violet’s hand fell away.

  “You be quiet, or I’ll put a spell on ya.”

  The woman had always believed the herbal remedies Violet made from plants she gathered were magic potions, instead of healing medications. Disliking her from the bottom of her core, Violet never took the energy to correct the floozy. Perhaps she just might be able to use the misconception to her advantage.

  “I’ll put a spell on ya right now if ya don’t leave!” She curled her fingers and pointed them at Jake’s ma. “Jake’s built hisself a good life with the Logans. He don’t need ya and he don’t want ya. You will only make him miserable.” She’d dare not say anything about Daisy, and Jake’s intention to marry the girl, in case Marlene was here to make trouble.

  Marlene stumbled back, holding out a hand as if she could ward off any spell Violet might conjure. When she gulped in fright, Violet wanted to laugh.

  “Violet, stop! Please wait until you hear what I have to say. Jake will want to speak with me. I have good news.”

  Nothing this woman could do or say would ever change Violet’s opinion of her. She didn’t have a decent mother’s bone anywhere. Violet remembered little Jake, knocking on the mercantile door after dark, grimy and dirty, asking if she had anything he could do to earn a piece of bread. Her heart ached, and then hardened. Seeing Marlene now brought back all those hard times.

  “Spit it out afore this spell slips from my fingertips. They’s hard ta control when it comes ta people I don’t like.” With her other hand, Violet struggled to pull the outstretched hand back to her chest.

  Marlene’s eyes grew wider.

  “J-Jake’s pa sent me a l-letter.” She patted her reticule without taking her eyes off Violet. “It’s in here.”

  Flummoxed, Violet just stared. All these years she’d known! Memories of a tiny Jake crying noiselessly into his pillow almost robbed her of breath. Marlene had claimed she didn’t know who Jake’s father was. Held true to the story for years. And now this! How dare she! Violet felt like clawing her black-lined eyes from her skull. Her lies had all but destroyed that poor child.

  “You’re a liar!”

  “I’m not lying about this.”

  “You’re an evil, evil woman, Marlene. I wouldn’t want ta be standin’ in your shoes when ya go ta meet yer maker. Now, what’s this about Jake’s pa?”

  Color had returned to her face. “I’ll tell Jake.”

  Violet stretched out her arm again. “You’ll tell me, or I’ll turn ya into a salamander. Then throw ya in front of the stage coach. The team will crush ya into a gooey mess and no one will ever even know you were here.” Violet searched her brain for some curse-sounding words. “Eye of newt,” she whispered in a gravelly voice, “tail of pollywog—”

  Marlene threw her body back against the brick side of the mercantile, her hands covering her face. “Wait!” she choked out. “Please! He’s dying. Jake’s pa is on his deathbed and wants to see Jake before he dies.”

  Violet knew how much Jake longed for roots of some kind. To have a last name. But would meeting his pa only make things worse? She didn’t want to cause him more harm.

  “Mrs. Hollyhock, is everything all right?”

  She turned to see Mr. Wade and Tabitha watching. When they started her way, she held them off. “Jist fine. Just reminiscing with my long-lost friend who came in on the stage. Sorry for running out on ya like that.”

  The two exchanged a glance.

  “There’s a satchel over here,” Mr. Wade said. “Do you want me to bring it to you?”

  Violet pushed her lips into a convincing smile. “It’ll be jist fine there for a few more minutes. But, thankee.” She waggled her fingers at them. “You two can go about yer day.”

  Again, Mr. Wade and Tabitha glanced at each other. They waved and started off.

  She had to come to a decision. Jake was a man now. Perhaps his pa would give him something of value besides his name. Maybe even some love.

  “All right. I’ll let ya speak with Jake. But I’ll arrange it. Where ya gonna stay?”

  Marlene shrugged. “I don’t know. I used everything I had just to get here. I hoped Jake would take me in.”

  What nerve. Marlene had rarely let Jake stay with her in her room. He was either at the mercantile with Violet, or in the storeroom in the saloon—hearing and seeing who knew what. That poor boy had lived a lifetime already.

  “He lives in a bunkhouse out at the Broken Horn with the Logans, where he works. Ya ain’t going ta stay there.”

  Marlene had her over a barrel. Violet had rooms to let, but Marlene had no money to pay. She’d mooch off anyone who would let her. Violet wouldn’t stand for that. “Ya can stay with me,” she said distastefully. “I have an empty room. But yer gonna work for yer kee
p. There won’t be any freeloading here.”

  “Doing what? I don’t know much except salooning.”

  “Yer gonna learn ta do laundry. Anyone with two hands can do that.”

  Marlene scrunched her fingers together. “Laundry? That’ll ruin my skin.”

  “Yer skin’s ruined already, ya old biddy, so stop yer yammering.”

  “I’m tired of you throwing insults at me, Violet! I’ve never done laundry and I don’t aim to start. Surely the saloon could use another girl.”

  I’ll never let her shame Jake that way!

  “You’ll learn, and you’ll keep yer mouth shut about who you are and about your past. You’ll smile and be nice. At least until ya talk with Jake and he either believes ya, or boots ya out of town. If ya do that, I’ll house ya and feed ya fer as long as yer here.” That way I can keep my eye on you! And little Bao will have some help as her time approaches. Maybe, jist maybe, this might work out for everyone concerned.

  Marlene straightened and put both hands on her hips. When she opened her mouth to protest, Violet squinted, curling her fingers. “I guess ya like the idea of slimy green skin . . .”

  Marlene snapped her mouth closed.

  “So, from here on out, yer my dear friend from Valley Springs.” She pointed across Main Street to the narrow row building that sat between the telegraph office and Cottonwood Lane, which led to the Red Rooster Inn. If Marlene had to stay in town, the arrangements couldn’t be better. “There’s the laundry house.”

  “Tap Ling’s Laundry,” Marlene gasped, her heavily made-up eyes blinking in quick succession. “You mean to put me to work! Real work?”

  “That I do, my sweet dearie. And yer gonna start right now.” Violet took in her tightly corseted middle and almost smiled. “Let’s pick up yer satchel and head over.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Hefting the posthole digger chest high, Jake was about to slam the tool into the earth when the sound of approaching hoof beats stilled his motion. He turned and searched the horizon, as did Gabe and Tyler Weston.

  Chase? What’s he doing out here? He always picks up supplies on Monday morning. He’d left early with the buckboard to pick up several additional rolls of fencing wire.

  A nervous energy edged its way over Jake’s shoulders. He reached for his canteen, and the other two men followed suit.

  “Wonder what he wants,” Tyler said, leaning a shoulder on a nearby tree trunk while they waited for their boss to arrive.

  The twenty-four-year-old, from somewhere over in the Dakotas, had become a friend. Other than Gabe, he was Jake’s closest comrade in the bunkhouse. The fella had hired on several months ago and had yet to open up about his past—which was a fairly common occurrence. Saddle tramping was a solitary business. One didn’t have to spill his guts to get hired, which was attractive to the drifting sort.

  That was fine with Jake. He rarely divulged his past, since it brought back hurtful memories. He’d gotten over a lot of it in the last few years. Chase had helped, as had the rest of the family. The past was the past, and there wasn’t a thing he could do to change it. Most importantly, Daisy didn’t seem to mind that he didn’t have a surname, or that his mother had worked in a saloon. She herself had left a similar type of existence. She was his sun on a rainy day.

  “Don’t know.” Gabe swiped at water that had splashed on his chin, then glanced up at the sky. “Must be important that the news couldn’t wait until quitting time.”

  Chase reined to a stop and stepped off his mount in one fluid movement. “Men,” Chase said, sparking suspicion in Jake with his formality.

  Chase strode to the fence they were stringing, and leaned close to the top wire. Closing one eye, he inspected their day’s work. He pulled back and nodded. “Good and straight. How long till you’re finished?”

  Another strange question. He knew they were waiting on the wire to finish up. “As soon as we get what you went to town for, the rest shouldn’t take long. You did get the wire, didn’t you?”

  A look of embarrassment crossed Chase’s eyes.

  Jake glanced at the buckboard Gabe had driven out, where one roll remained. “We’ll make this last acre with what we got left. But if you didn’t pick up the supplies, we’re dead in the water.”

  “I got the fencing.” He looked off over the prairie.

  What in the devil was going on? His, Gabe’s, and Tyler’s orders had been to string the fence as far as they could go, and then they’d have more wire tonight for the rest of the week. What was the cause for this impromptu, unneeded meeting out in the middle of nowhere? Chase had to have something else on his mind. When he plopped his hand on Jake’s shoulder, he was sure of it.

  “Gabe, Tyler, go ahead and head back. Take the rest of the day off. You’ve been putting in long hours. Go fishing or something.”

  “What about the roof on the bunkhouse?” Gabe asked, his brows drawn down in question. “Did ya pick up the shingles needed for that? If yes, I’ll get to reroofing.”

  Gabe, always industrious, could work the rest of them to shame.

  Chase sprouted his first smile since he’d arrived. “If you’re so inclined, Gabe, then you’ll find everything you need in back of my buckboard parked in the barn. Be careful on the roof. I don’t want you sticking your foot through the places that are paper thin. I believe that bunkhouse is fifty-some-odd years old.”

  Gabe nodded. After one confused glance toward Chase, he went to the wagon and climbed onto the bench.

  Tyler fetched his horse and mounted. “See you back at the ranch,” he said in his low, gravelly voice.

  Jake and Chase watched in silence as the two moved away.

  “So, what’s up?” Jake asked, not sure he was ready for the answer. It had been years since he’d seen such a mixture of anguish and uncertainty on Chase’s face. Not since the morning Jessie’s daughter, Sarah, had been abducted by the scoundrel that had followed them to Logan Meadows from Valley Springs—some five years ago. “Spit it out, Chase, because I can tell whatever you have to say is bad. Is Daisy all right? She hasn’t gotten hurt, has she?”

  Chase shook his head. “No, no, nothing like that. Everyone is fine. Saw Daisy this morning in the Silky Hen and she looked as pretty as ever. Said to tell you hello.”

  Jake rolled his tight shoulders. His boss meandered back to the fence and tested the post. Jake’s gut was a mess of twisted knots.

  Chase turned and stared. “Your mother’s in town. She’s staying at the Red Rooster Inn with Mrs. Hollyhock. She wants to speak with you.”

  Jake’s breath burst from his lungs.

  My mother?

  In Logan Meadows?

  He turned to hide the animosity that ripped through his chest. What’s she want? Money? A place to live?

  The tangy taste of bile rose in his throat. No. He didn’t want to hear anything she had to say. Mrs. Hollyhock was the closest thing to a mother or grandmother that he’d ever had. She hated his ma. Why would she house her at all?

  “Jake?”

  “I hear ya, Chase. That was a mouthful you dumped on me. I don’t know why that woman would come here—now—after not hearing a word from her since I left. It’s not because she wants to see me.” Jake searched Chase’s face. “You know why, don’t you? I can see it in your eyes.”

  Chase nodded.

  “Well?”

  “She has news of your pa. Has a letter for you.”

  Revulsion for the woman who’d birthed him soured his mouth. She’s known all along who my father is? “What do you mean? A letter from years ago?”

  “A new correspondence. You should be happy, Jake. You’ve wondered about this for years. You’ll finally know who your pa is and have a family history, some roots. It’s what you’ve been longin’ for.”

  “Family?” Jake scoffed, glancing back at Chase. “I’d hardly call him that. I can’t imagine why, after all this time, he wants to see me. You and Jessie are my family. Gabe and the children, too.” But you�
��ll have a name. Something real to give Daisy. If for no other reason, you should be glad about that.

  Chase gripped his shoulder. “’Course we are. And that will never change. But, he’s dyin’, Jake. The doctor thinks he may only have a few weeks to live. You’ve wondered about him for a long time, and now’s your chance to get some answers. Jake?” Chase’s heated tone was not lost on him.

  “Yeah, I’m delighted. Glad he waited until he was out of time to look me up.”

  Chase let go of his shoulder and gazed into the sky. “Maybe this is how fate planned it, Jake. You’re your own man now, not some boy looking for a handout. You can meet him on your own terms. You’re a good man, too. Never doubt that. You’ve made a home and name for yourself here in Logan Meadows. You’ve got a small piece of land and a bride to boot. The mares you got from Nell and Charlie all have nice foals by their sides and are bred back to our stud. Your band of horses is growing. You don’t need him now, and that’s a good thing. That should give you some peace of mind. Some pride. Jessie would say this was God’s way of leveling the field. That fella may be surprised at the man who walks into the room.”

  Jake’s heart swelled. What would have become of him without this man standing here? Jake didn’t like to contemplate. Once he’d been given the opportunity to move away from the squalor that he called home in Valley Springs, he’d never looked back. Perhaps he’d have gone bad, been on the wrong side of the law. Robbed a bank, or worse. Maybe he’d even have been strung up from some hanging tree for rustling or killing.

  “When?” he asked, the thought of seeing her distasteful in his mind. “When does she want to talk?”

  “Violet’s making her work off her board by doing laundry for Tap Ling. She’ll be off around four today. Violet said if you wanted to come out to the Red Rooster tonight for supper, that would be a good time. Violet’s told no one but me about who Marlene really is, or why she’s here.”

  Jake took a stumbling step back at the mention of his mother’s name. He hadn’t heard it spoken in years.